


Inarguable Silence

by telepaths



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: M/M, One Shot, Smut, Smutlet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-15
Updated: 2011-11-15
Packaged: 2017-10-26 02:37:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/277733
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telepaths/pseuds/telepaths
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gilbert corners Roderich in his own home with the intent to make him succumb to his wills, but the tables are quickly turned and the ex-nation finds himself the prey of a rather disinterested Roderich.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Inarguable Silence

When he kisses him, it is reminiscent of a nightmare he fights hard to forget. It's full, hard and drips with power -- lips crushing his own fervently as if to say, 'Yes, you're mine, I've caught you and you're mine'. He does not struggle; with the sense of need in the other's forceful advances he figures it would not be a wise decision and he lets himself be overtaken. The wall behind him is solid and hard and it hurts when Gilbert throws him into it but he does not make a sound. Those lips are on him again, now with teeth; with heavy breathing that slips between an unsettling lust and a possessive, dominant growl. The way that he lets this occur would indicate that it has happened before and it has, though that was years ago, at the bitter end of a most dishonorable war. Gilbert took him then, held him down on a battlefield caked with layers of dried blood and subdued him before an already horrified and war-weary audience. He did not argue then, so tired from the fight and so unwilling to satisfy the nation's bloodlust with a struggle; he does not argue now, knowing full well that it will only please him further.

Roderich takes a deep breath when he is allowed access to air once more, eyes open and watching the nation who has him pinned so tightly against this wall in his own home. It has been a long time since he's seen Gilbert; though the violet-eyed Germanic nation has his habits of dropping in on him suddenly, much to his dismay. Those violet eyes are searching now, glaring and looking for signs of recognition in Roderich's face. His lips are swollen from his assault on the shorter nation's mouth and neck, and he does not relent his hold on him while he watches him. They say nothing. Roderich knows why he is here; knows that there are no other nations for Gilbert to call his own, even though his dominance is a thinly veiled lie. No one will allow themselves to fall prey to Gilbert's needs, Gilbert's wants and feelings and blood-soaked memories so dark and so valiant--

So forgotten. Gilbert comes here to remember. He is here to take advantage of a man that will, out of some silent and unspoken of pity, allow Gilbert's fevered attentions and thoughtless dominance. Theirs is a relationship that is subdued and wholly private, fed by Gilbert's haunting fear of inadequacy, his terror that he is nothing without his name, his flag, his wars. It is fed by Roderich's twisted compassion, borne of his once crushing respect for a kingdom so powerful, so dominant. That compassion has transformed itself into pity, into a selfish desire, even, to see such a powerful ex-nation fall victim to lust, to Roderich -- he is nothing, now, without his kingdom. They both know it. Gilbert needs Roderich, and Roderich loves it. Neither of them will speak of it. Their bodies say enough.

Gilbert has returned to Roderich's neck now, his teeth bared against the brown-haired man's neck and leaving marks with almost more force than is necessary. His kissing is moving along Roderich's jaw, ending at his chin before drawing his face up to his lips once more and forcing them together. When Gilbert's tongue enter's Roderich's mouth it is wet and hot, wanton and searching, as if the silver-haired man is trying to claim the other's mouth as his own. It often goes like this, with Roderich's refusal to respond, his desire quite subdued until properly awakened. Roderich lets Gilbert kiss him until it seems the other has tired of this, reaching now to remove all the layers of Roderich's extravagant (to him, anyway) clothing. When his gloved fingers wrap themselves into the lace of Roderich's cravat, Gilbert tugs him down by it into another quick, heated kiss before doing away with the accessory.

While he is quick to tear off Roderich's clothing, it seems he struggles with his own. Gilbert has no desire to tease and play with his companion, always with one primary goal in mind. Roderich is still with his back against the wall and he watches Gilbert's leather-clad hands fumbling with the clasp at his belt, distressed by his need and finding it more and more difficult to communicate with his hands. Synapses are firing, but it does not seem like they want to obey. Roderich takes a step forward, his first attempt at moving away from the wall and he grabs Gilbert's hands in his own to cease his attempts. It is now that the tables turn, as they almost always do, Roderich's pity forming itself into a desire -- his arousal awakening at the mere concept of dominance over this once glorious nation. It is when this happens that he begins to enjoy these meetings of theirs, the moment he can take control of the situation and do with Gilbert as he wishes; Gilbert always complies. Anything, Gilbert thinks, anything to feel recognized. Anything to be satiated.

It is then that Roderich takes full, forceful control of their encounter. As he is entirely naked, Gilbert's clothing frustrates him. He makes a point to back the taller man toward his own bed, naked body falling onto the silver-haired ex-nation when he loses his balance against the mattress and falls backward. Roderich is quick to straddle Gilbert's waist, determination flushing his features, eyes hungry for more than flesh-to-flesh contact. He wants to subdue the other, wants to make him cry out. Roderich wants to break their long-held silence, feel Gilbert writhing beneath him, screaming for a release that only Roderich can supply. His cock twitches just thinking about it; his adrenaline has kicked its way into his veins and is pulsing through his body to his groin. He reaches down, nimble fingers quickly undoing Gilbert's tie and disposing of the nuisance. He fights through layers of uniform, that tell-tale Prussian blue, wriggling Gilbert's arms and legs free from their confines. Neither of them speak, yet; their only communication in short grunts, gasps and growls.

When Gilbert is finally just as naked as his counterpart, Roderich bends his body over the man and tightens his thighs around Gilbert's waist. He latches onto the ex-nation's scarred and battle-worn chest, raking his fingernails over remarkably taut flesh. Roderich's arousal has locked itself beside Gilbert's and he rocks their groins together, letting out a feral growl that is private to this bedroom, to them. He leans down and his fingers lift themselves from Gilbert's chest and grab both sides of his neck, squeezing perhaps tighter than necessary while he is arching down over Gilbert and taking his lips, initiating it this time. Gilbert will not admit it but he is pleased to respond to the kiss and they are holding each other, Gilbert wrapping his arms about Roderich while the Austrian tries his best to lay his body flat along Gilbert's and just feel their closeness; taste their lust in his companion's mouth. There is something eerily sentimental about their encounters though neither will admit to it, something that draws them to one another over all others. Gilbert is leaving marks on Roderich's neck while he recounts all the times he has attempted to recreate this feeling with other nations, humans, people who are not the same. It is never the same.

Roderich's mouth is hot on his neck and he scrapes his own teeth against Gilbert's sensitive flesh before he sits back up and watches the other nation with heat in his blue eyes. Roderich's hands, otherwise so elegant and graceful, have clawed themselves into Gilbert's waist and he is separating himself from sitting atop the ex-nation. He stands himself up and pulls Gilbert toward him by the waist, nodding sharply at the man to turn himself over. Gilbert, seeing the fire in those eyes, obeys -- he flips himself onto his stomach and Roderich re-positions himself between the man's legs, feet planted on the floor. Those long fingers are tracing patterns on Gilbert's back now, following long scars, flesh that is stretched and shiny, a lighter color than the skin around it. Gilbert feels his erection pressing against the bed, it is pushed up against his stomach now, suffocated and throbbing; trapped, much like he is. Roderich's hands quit moving against his back and his left is now between Gilbert's shoulder blades, holding him down against the bed while his right grabs a hold of Gilbert's chin.

He watches Gilbert in this position, cheek pressed into his bed, eyes half-lidded with desire; body immobilized by Roderich's own. The sight itself arouses him further and he presses his body between Gilbert's legs once more, slides his cock between the flesh of Gilbert's ass and bends over him. His fingers move from his chin, now, rubbing at Gilbert's lips for entrance -- Gilbert eagerly stretches out his neck to take Roderich's fingers in his mouth, suckling them, coating them with saliva. His mind supplies him with an image of those same fingers, dancing across a piano, skirting over ivory keys and bringing music to Gilbert's ears that he would never admit he loved to listen to. Roderich's fingers were removed from his mouth about as quickly as they'd been taken in and the Austrian had moved his left hand to leverage Gilbert's waist while he pressed his fingers into his more favorable of entrances. The move elicited a soft, low groan from Gilbert that served to encourage Roderich further, and he was perhaps too quick in his attempts to stretch the other's entrance for his own purposes.

When Roderich's fingers are removed they are followed by his cock almost immediately, Roderich eager with passion and blinded with lust, with no real desire to cater to Gilbert's needs. The ex-nation beneath him squirms, groaning against the cloth on Roderich's bed and tightening his fists in the blankets when Roderich takes him to the hilt with full force. His entrance is quick and unforgiving and it leaves Gilbert breathless, taking the blankets between his teeth and trying with utmost desperation not to make a sound. Roderich's hands have now gone to his thighs and are holding his legs apart before they cling to his waist once more and Roderich pulls out from him almost entirely. Gilbert knows that there is no getting used to this, there will be no opportunity to adjust to the erratic rhythm of the other man's following thrusts before they begin. Gilbert is breathing heavily now, the air compressed in his lungs from his compromising position. As his hips are being held only slightly higher than the mattress for Roderich's leverage, Gilbert reaches down and tightens his own fingers around his cock with desperation.

Roderich is pounding into him fully now, eyes squeezed shut and mouth contorted with pleasure. Gilbert watches him, curious, aroused. He grits his teeth together and tightens his own hand around his arousal while he strains to watch Roderich's lust-painted face. It is a face that is familiar to him, a face that even after all these years he is drawn to. Gilbert's neck begins to ache from the unusual position he is holding to watch his partner's face and he turns his eyes reluctantly back to the bedding below him. It feels as if Roderich is taking him, now, claiming him as his own -- claiming himself the only nation who will satiate Gilbert, the only nation who will be compassionate enough for even a pity fuck. Gilbert's fingernails are raking down his erection, teasing his own head and listening to Roderich's breath. He wants to hear Roderich. He wants to listen to the sounds that his body makes the other nation make, wants to convince himself that he is the only one capable of doing this for him. The only man capable of tightening himself around Roderich in the perfect way, which he does; the only man able to make that shuddering moan roll off of the Austrian's tongue, which he does.

There is a burning sensation that seems to overpower the both of them, it draws each of them closer to their own release. Roderich is hissing moans through clenched teeth now as his pace increases, the sound of flesh slick with sweat echoing in both their ears. When he comes, it is as if his own string of passion and fire climbs its way through Gilbert's spine and the silver-haired man jerks himself to release with a fevered, hitched groan and falls flat against the bed once more, eyes closed, breath coming in quick, short gasps. It is a moment before Roderich pulls out of him, stepping backward a few steps and trying to keep his own balance. He falls forward onto the bed, beside Gilbert, facing him. He watches Gilbert's flushed face and a thick smirk of self-appreciation curves over his lips. Gilbert opens his violet-red eyes and watches that smirk, his own face contorting in what looks like a snarl, though it is quick to die. He reaches and grabs a hold of Roderich's neck, pulling the brown-haired man close to him and twisting his face toward him for a kiss. Though he did not expect it to be returned, it is.

Roderich watches Gilbert and the ex-nation does the same, locking their eyes together. Their faces are both red and they are both out of breath, each man dizzy with his own satisfaction. They say nothing.

They never do.


End file.
